


Sentimentals

by LittleMissKitKat



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Author is a Technoblade Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade is Touch-Starved, Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29700483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissKitKat/pseuds/LittleMissKitKat
Summary: After this, it had become a habit for Techno to unconsciously think of the cloak as a sort of comfort object. The most common use was one he had to do about once a month. About once a month (like a goddamn menstrual cycle), the voices got worse. Worse than usual. All-day his head would be filled with the voice screaming, begging, demanding blood, violence, death. All-day he had to stop himself from hurting someone he cared about, all-day he had to stop himself from going to cause mass destruction. Hell, half the scars he had were from sword wounds he inflicted upon himself as a last-ditch attempt to get the voices to shut up.
Relationships: Technoblade & OC - Relationship, Technoblade & Phil Watson, Technoblade & Ranboo, Technoblade & TommyInnit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 93





	Sentimentals

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I’ve seen a small amount of feedback on my last post and I wrote another little drabble, so I figured I’d post it on here. It does contain an OC, which I know will deter people, but I’m really happy with how this turned out, so I figured I’d post it anyway. <3

Techno’s cloak was always something of high value to him. Of course, to everyone else it was nothing special; it was just a cloak after all. But, it meant more to Techno than almost any other object he owned, second only to his crown. It held a special place in his heart, especially since he’s had it for many years, through many different things that have happened.

The cloak was his first proper gift from Phil. They hadn’t known each other for as long as they have now, (obviously, that’s how time works) but when Techno told Phil of his plans to retire and move to the mountains up North, Phil came to him about a week later with this cloak. 

It was hand-sewn, golden thread holding together the brilliant crimson fleece of the outside, similarly coloured wool lining the inside to help protect from the cold. Fur surrounding the neck of the cloak and fur trim along the bottom. Multiple hidden pockets had been sewn onto the inside of the cloak specifically designed to store throwing knives, arrows, and golden nuggets. The cloak was soft, incredibly so. It was perfectly warm, and a soft hood lined with wool allowed protection from the rain and warmth for his head. An adjustable golden chain clasp held the sides of the cloak together, allowing it to be as open or as closed as needed. 

Techno had only ever received a few gifts in his life. All of them meant something to him, and every single one of them was special. He had never been good at receiving gifts though, so when Phil handed him a handmade gift, one of the most meaningful gifts Techno had ever received, he didn’t know how to react. He careful ran the back of his hoof over the cloak, feeling the soft fleece against his skin. He didn’t know what to do, and even the voices seemed stunned, flooding his brain with coos of affection. Carefully pulling the cloak over his shoulders and clasping the chain. Phil smiled at him softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he did. 

The cloak fit perfectly.

Techno slightly lunged for Phil, enveloping him in a tight hug, the tightest hug he had ever given anyone other than Steve. He was hunched over, resting his face on Phil’s shoulder, and while Phil seemed stunned for a moment, he wrapped his arms around Techno’s torso, hugging him back. Techno sighed in slight relief, and allowed himself to feel warm, allowed himself to feel happy and worthy and deserving. Because despite all the horrible things he did in the past and still does, despite the voices, despite the number of times he’s come home in the middle of the night with injuries than Phil needed to patch up, he had someone who cared. He had someone who loved him. 

Because of this, because of the care and detail that had been put into the cloak, because it was his first gift from Phil, it meant a lot to him. Even though he wore it every day, he wore it because it helped him. It helped the voices calm down a little, as the deep crimson reminded them enough of blood that they allowed their wants to be sated. It made him feel safe, protected from the outside world. So when someone he cared about, someone he loved was hurting, he would do his best to share that comfort with them. 

When he stumbled into Tommy’s room to ask him about the whereabouts of his sword, he accidentally walked into the middle of Tommy having a panic attack. It wasn’t long after Dream had visited, accusing Techno of housing Tommy (which he was obviously housing him but Dream didn’t need to know that. Techno would be damned if he willingly let Dream harm one of Phil’s kids.) and Tommy had been forced into a small cramped space despite his claustrophobia and forced to listen to his abuser try to discover him and try to threaten Techno. 

Tommy sat against his bedframe, hunched over and gripping the sides of his head, hands over his ears and tears streaming down his cheeks. Techno didn’t know how to react, he had never been one to handle emotions properly. He pushed all of his emotions aside- more than aside, he pushed them out the window, over the balcony, into the ocean. Techno didn’t do feelings, and whenever he was forced to handle them from the voices’ endless harassment, his solution was usually to either go kill a bunch of animals or find a village to burn down. But, Tommy was different.

Techno froze, desperately trying to think of something to do. His eyes flitted back and forth, searching the room for something to help. The voices weren’t of any help, just screaming at him to comfort Tommy. It wasn’t until his hoof brushed against his cloak that he realized what to do. He took a deep breath, unclasping the cloak and pulling it off his shoulders. He walked over to Tommy as lightly as he could (still stomping but A for effort I guess), sitting down cross-legged on the floor and plopping the cloak onto Tommy’s shoulders. Tommy finally seemed to notice his presence, his breath speeding up and his eyes looking around frantically before settling on Techno and calming down. Techno adjusted the cloak to help it stay up, and ruffled Tommy’s hair lightly. “You’re safe, Theseus.”

After this, it had become a habit for Techno to unconsciously think of the cloak as a sort of comfort object. The most common use was one he had to do about once a month. About once a month (like a goddamn menstrual cycle), the voices got worse. Worse than usual. All-day his head would be filled with the voice screaming, begging, demanding blood, violence, death. All-day he had to stop himself from hurting someone he cared about, all-day he had to stop himself from going to cause mass destruction. Hell, half the scars he had were from sword wounds he inflicted upon himself as a last-ditch attempt to get the voices to shut up. But, on these days when the voices were so bad, one thing he found to help was placing a few golden nuggets in the pockets of his cloak, weighing it down and applying more pressure to Techno’s shoulders and neck. It helped him focus, gave his brain something to pull his attention away from the voices screaming in his ears. On these days, the night was particularly bad, and with nothing to distract himself with, he was only left to his mind’s devices. All he could hear at night was the words of the voices, demanding bloodshed. On these nights, he wrapped himself in his cloak, still weighted down with the golden nuggets, and curled up into himself. Sometimes he fell asleep. Most times he didn’t move until he heard Phil knock on his door. But the cloak, as much as the voices overwhelmed him, provided comfort. It helped remind him that someone cared. 

One night, Techno was roaming around, keeping watch around the house as well as taking Steve on a walk, and he stumbled upon Ranboo. He called out his name a few times, but nothing happened, Ranboo just kept walking. Techno’s brows furrowed (what was Ranboo doing? Did he sleepwalk and he just didn’t tell Techno and Phil about it?), trying to figure out what to do. He figured that since Ranboo had his weapons and armour on, he would probably be fine. But, his hands were shaking, he hadn’t put his cloak on before he left his house. Once again, Techno unclasped his cloak, standing in front of Ranboo to stop him from walking, and gently placed his cloak on Ranboo’s shoulders, clasping the chain tightly to avoid the cloak falling off, after all, Techno was a lot bigger than Ranboo width-wise. He did the same as he did to Tommy, ruffling his hair and walking off with Steve (he needed to go to bed anyway) and going home. 

The next morning, Ranboo woke up 2000 blocks from home, wrapped in Techno’s cloak in the middle of a tundra biome. He softly rubbed the fleece between his fingers, pulling it around himself as he began the stretch back home. He smiled softly, pulling the hood over his head and leaving a diamond in an empty pocket of the cloak. That afternoon, Techno found his cloak sitting on his bed, neatly folded with a single diamond sitting in the pocket. Soon after, Techno could be spotted with an earring on the same ear as the friendship emerald, almost a duplicate of the older earring, but with a small diamond hanging off of his ear instead. 

Adhara had a bit of a weekly tradition. Every Thursday night, she would sit in front of her window, facing the stars, and mutter apologies. Apologies to her friend, whom she couldn’t save in time. Apologies to her family, for leaving early and without warning, for not even leaving a note in her wake. She had been desperate to leave, desperate to live amongst the humans, desperate to learn about them. But she was a fool, she hadn’t even completely learned their main language yet, but she leapt anyway. She leapt and she fell, crashing into the ground as a comet, burning a trail of stardust behind her. She muttered apologies to Ranboo, for intruding on his life so suddenly, as well as the same to Techno and Philza, apologizing for intruding on their lives. She muttered apologies for her elders, her elders who warned her of the consequences of her actions. 

When Techno first discovered her doing this, he had been confused. He stood in her doorway, arching an eyebrow as he wondered what the hell she could be doing (maybe she was praying?). She seemed to notice the eyes on the back of her head and turned around, still speaking softly, before jumping hard and scampering backwards. She breathed heavily, “Oh my Gods Techno, you scared the shit out of me.”

He chuckled, leaning against the doorway to her room, “What were you doing?”

“A bit of a tradition… nothing bad, don’t worry.”

“Well I wasn’t worried before, but now I am.”

“Oops.”

She laughed nervously, fiddling with her fingers, “It’s really nothing, I promise.” He nodded and pushed himself off the doorway, walking off into his own room. He didn’t stop thinking about what she was doing. Before she had noticed him, she looked… remorseful? He wasn’t sure. His brows furrowed and he tried to focus on sharpening his axe, but to no avail. His mine was preoccupied with the girl with the freckled stars.

It wasn’t until a couple weeks later that he realized what she was doing. Ever since that incident she left her door closed, and Techno had been able to hear her soft spoken words vaguely if he listened, but he tried not to intrude. But one night, they weren’t soft spoken. They weren’t whispers or mutters under her breath. See, it had been hailing, it frequently did during the winter season, and that meant it was harder to hear someone. Adhara seemed to dislike the hail, for whatever reason (maybe she didn’t like storms?). And tonight, Techno could hear her. The hail wasn’t that bad from where he was standing, but it was likely very loud for her. 

He could hear her clearly this time. “I’m sorry my mother, I’m sorry my father, I’m sorry for leaving you and all whom we loved, I’m sorry for causing distress, I’m sorry for crashing, and I’m sorry for disobeying the elder’s wishes.” His jaw tightened, listening to this girl apologize over and over and over again, repeating the same phrase with different people every time. Techno didn’t know where Adhara was from, he didn’t know and he didn’t particularly care. It was her business, if she wanted to tell him she could but he wouldn’t ever ask. Not unless it was necessary. But this girl, this girl who had been nothing but kind since she arrived, was apologizing to people. This was a normal thing to him, she apologized for a lot, but this was different. He had never heard apologies this… sincere? Heartfelt? He wasn’t sure. But something in her tone hit a nerve that he hadn’t noticed before. 

He carefully opened her door, keeping his footsteps light (he had gotten better at it but he still wasn’t great. Shutting the door behind himself quietly, Techno moved to sit down behind her. She had lowered her volume, proving she knew he was here, but it didn’t matter. Because now Techno could see the tears running down her cheeks, the way her hands trembled as she spoke, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

As he had done before, he carefully unclasped the chain to his cloak, being more careful than he may have been in the past. This cloak was getting older after all, and Techno would hate to replace the chain. Carefully, he dropped two golden nuggets in four of the pockets, weighing the cape down a good amount, and gently placed it on her shoulders. He shuffled around her, facing her front now instead of her back, and softly slipped the chain in place. Her mouth had stopped moving, remaining tightly shut, as though her jaw had been wired closed. She slowly relaxed her muscles and opened her eyes, a few stray tears falling out. Her tears shimmer, like stars, Techno thinks to himself.

She keeps her gaze downward, and says one final apology, “I’m sorry to Technoblade, for intruding upon his home and life with no warning, and for occupying a space connected to his home.” Techno blinks, shock written all over his face. She wasn’t the first to apologize, Ranboo had apologized a million times already, and while Techno could tell he was sincere and truly meant it, this was different. This was vulnerable. Adhara kept her line of sight on the floor, and for the second time, Techno lunged at someone, enveloping them in his arms.


End file.
